
Trina Stolec
| Alteration You made me realize sometimes it isn't necessary to look beyond; a joke can be just a joke Smell the rose without contemplation of why it grew in that particular spot Accept chance not fate Move on. Your shallow waters call the ocean Evaporate it to a mud puddle The clouds cry their rain out of sight It can't hurt us The horizon between here and there is an endless field of hardened earth the till can't penetrate An easy walk. no mountains to scale or sinkholes opening chilled catacombs for exploration No rose to contemplate Its scent stolen by the wind of stoic indifference Not even a stone to trip on, twist an ankle, scrape a knee. The noose of belonging hung us both in arid Arctic air I watch you hunt now for an elusive love you no longer have the capacity to feel. The wind shifts I catch the slight scent of a Whiskey Mac miraged on the edge of a polished granite cliff The ocean breathes in my face, deposits curious creatures to contemplate when it retreats back to the Catacombs where a pirate's ransom glitters in pin light sunshine piercing down from the cliff top Frustration's raindrops wash the air Elation's fountain eventually cries back into the ocean Their voices spiral up from the chasms, hail down from the mountain peaks, thunder over your wasteland horizon. Your way or mine. one and one make two, but roses smell like wine here. catacombs are the only path to the summit here. and I don't want to be like you. **********************************************
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